


The Fillorian Depression

by WonderfullyWonderingAlone59



Series: Fillorian Blues [1]
Category: Queliot - Fandom, The Magicians
Genre: Depression, M/M, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 12:01:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15605835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderfullyWonderingAlone59/pseuds/WonderfullyWonderingAlone59
Summary: One month after being crowned King with Eliot and Margo, Quentin is hit with a major depressive episode while in Fillory.





	1. Fillorian Blues

Eliot and Margo sat yawning on their thrones. It was too early for this shit. Even after being in Fillory for a month, it was still hard getting up at the ass crack of dawn, but they had royal duties to attend to. 

Eliot motioned for Tick, who came running over. “Tick, where is King Quentin? He’s late. Can you go get him, please?” 

Quentin had been sleeping in a bit longer lately but still managing to make it on time, but not today.

Tick nodded and took off running towards the bed chambers. He knocked on Quentin’s door but heard nothing. He must still be sleeping. He opened the door and looked at the bed but Quentin wasn’t there. The blankets were all bunched up in a ball like he had been tossing and turning. 

He went towards the bathing chambers. The door was slightly cracked open. “King Quentin? Do you need some assistance?” 

When Quentin didn’t reply, Tick pushed the door open. Quentin was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, with just his pants on staring off into space. 

“King Quentin, sir? King Eliot is wanting to know your whereabouts.” 

Quentin still made no reply. Just stared off into the distance. Tick waved a hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention. 

“Sir?” Quentin blinked slowly, but made no effort to speak or look at Tick. 

Tick returned back to the throne room and approached Eliot. He leaned down to his ear to speak quietly. “Sir, I’m afraid King Quentin is...a bit...indisposed...at the moment.”

Eliot turned to face him. “What do you mean?”

Tick looked around him, trying not to draw any attention. “He is sitting on the floor in the bathing chambers, only half dressed. He seems...unwell, sir. I fear he may need you.”

Eliot’s stomach dropped. Panic consumed him. He told Margo what was going on and that he’d return. She told him to go, she could deal with the staff. 

Eliot bolted full force to Quentin’s room and into the bathing chambers. He slowed and stopped when he approached the door, not wanting to startle him. 

He pushed the door open all the way and saw Quentin sitting against the wall, shirt in his hands. He squatted down in front of him.

“Q? Hey, I’m here, what’s going on?” 

Quentin continued staring off into the distance. Eliot snapped his fingers in front of his face but Quentin closed his eyes.

Eliot put a hand up to touch Quentin’s cheek. He seemed a bit warm, but not enough to have a fever. 

“Hey, babe, are you sick? Talk to me.” Quentin looked into Eliot’s eyes for just a few seconds but then dropped his head to his chest like it was too weak to hold it up.

Eliot took his head in both of his hands, steadying him to look at him. “Talk to me, Quentin. What’s wrong?” Silence.

A thought suddenly popped into Eliot’s head. Pills. When was the last he had seen Quentin take his depression medication? He jumped up and went to Quentin’s bedside table and opened the drawer, looking for his pills. He finally found the container and picked it up. Empty. Shit. They’d been here for a month. Of course he would’ve needed a refill by now.

He went back to Quentin and scooped him up and carried him to the bed and sat him down gently. His head was wobbly so he kept his hand behind his neck and maneuvered him so he could sit against the head board and put a pillow behind him. 

“Quentin? Do you know who I am or where you are?”

Quentin lightly nodded. “Eliot. Fillory.” 

Eliot used to try to monitor Quentin when it came to his pills back at Brakebills. He could be a bit forgetful or just plain decide to not take them at all. It got to the point that he was feeling like he was being treated like a child and got sick of Eliot hovering over him about them and one day he snapped. Margo had convinced him to let Quentin do it himself and to trust him so Eliot finally agreed. 

Eliot sat on the edge of the bed. “Q, I need to ask you a question and I need you to be honest with me. Please don’t get mad, ok?”

Quentin only stared into his eyes. Eliot couldn’t help but notice how weak and pitiful he looked. He hated this. 

Eliot put a hand on his cheek. “Q, when was the last time you took your pills?”

Quentin rested his head against the headboard and looked down.

Eliot waited for an answer but got nothing. “Quentin. Hey. Look at me, please. When was the last time you took your pills?”

Quentin took a deep breath, trying to gather enough strength to speak. “About two weeks ago. Im sorry, El. I ran out and thought I would be ok without them. I was feeling so much better.”

Eliot rubbed his thumb across Quentin’s cheek and then moved up to sit beside him. “Oh, Q. Come here.”

He pulled him down so that his head was resting in his lap, running his fingers through his hair. “Why didn’t you say something? You should’ve come to me. I can get Julia to send us more. You know you can’t just stop taking your meds like that. You’re on a heavy dose and it’s dangerous.”

Eliot was kicking himself for not being more aware Quentin’s mood lately or that it would’ve been time to get a refill. 

Quentin was closing his eyes. Eliot just watched him. “Q, do you think you’re up for getting dressed?” 

Quentin shook his head. The depressive episode was here. Eliot had seen this before many times. Quentin wouldn’t be able to do much for awhile now, and would spend most of his time in bed. He couldn’t help it. It would take at least two weeks before the new pills took effect after Julia gets them to him. 

“It’s ok. I think you’re having some major withdrawal symptoms though. I’m gonna get a message to Julia and we’re gonna get you feeling better in no time. I promise you that.”

He made a mental note to start paying attention and monitoring Quentin again without making it obvious.

He looked down. Quentin was sleeping now. 

Tick appeared at the door and came in. “How is King Quentin? Do you need anything, sir?”

Eliot took a deep breath. The Fillorians didn’t know anything about mental illness so Eliot was trying to figure out he would explain this to him. 

“Tick, King Quentin is going to be needing much, much more of my attention for the next few weeks. I’m going to need you to help Queen Margo out for me.”

Tick didn’t seem to fully understand. “Does he needs a doctor, sir? I could call for one.”

Eliot shook his head. “No. Tick, where we come from, King Quentin has a bit of a...mood disorder. The chemicals in his brain don’t work right on their own and he needs daily medication to correct it and help him function properly. When he doesn’t take it he is weak and unable to take care of himself and needs lots and lots of rest. He’s going to need us to help him, even with simple things. That’s what’s wrong with him right now.” 

Tick seemed to understand now. “Shall I bring his breakfast here, sir?”

Eliot nodded. “Yes. Good idea. He usually won’t eat or drink on his own when he’s like this so we have to remind him and make sure he does, even if he doesn’t want to. We’re in for a ride.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin still isn’t getting out of bed. Eliot finally convinces him to eat something.

With Tick’s help over the last few days, Eliot had been able to fully attend to Quentin and still do some royal duties. Quentin was still down for the count and not getting out of bed unless forced. 

Julia had gotten Eliot’s message about Quentin’s medication and had it sent right to them. It had only been 3 days but at least it was in his system. Now he just needed time for it to take effect. 

Eliot finished up his early morning meeting and came back to his room to check on Quentin. Tick was with him, a breakfast tray on the bedside table with food that was untouched.

“Sir, I’m afraid King Quentin is refusing to sit up or accept any food. He orders me to go away and let him sleep.” 

Eliot sighed. “Thank you for trying, Tick. I’ll take it from here. You can see if Queen Margo needs any assistance with anything.”

Tick bowed politely and exited the room. Eliot took his crown off and set it down. He stood at the edge of the bed for a minute, just watching Quentin sleep. He was on his stomach, shirtless, head on his arm and only half covered up by the blanket. One pillow was across the room on the floor, that he had apparently thrown trying to make Tick leave.

He sat down beside him and began lightly rubbing his bare back for a few minutes, then using his fingertips to softly scratch. This made Quentin stir a bit. 

“There you are. Wake up.” Eliot leaned down so he was half laying over Quentin, arms supporting him up, then continued the scratching but went down Quentin’s side this time which made him jump. Eliot knew he was ticklish there. He stayed in that spot causing Quentin to squirm and groan. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Eliot smiled. “I like watching you squirm underneath me. It’s alarmingly sexy. I’m not stopping until you wake up and turn over. It’s up to you now.”

Quentin finally gave in and turned over onto his back, eyes still closed. Eliot brushed the hair out of his eyes and stroked the side of his face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto his forehead, then ran his fingers softly down his side again. 

Quentin flinched. “Ahh! No more.” 

Eliot chuckled. “Ok, you’re going to sit up and eat then, right? Come on. Up! You’re already too skinny and you’re just going to keep melting away if you don’t eat.”

Eliot reached for his hands but Quentin laid still. 

“El, really, I’m not hungry. Plus, nothing sounds appetizing.”

Eliot glared at him. “Q, come on. At least eat the bowl of fruit. I know the eggs don’t look the best but you could use the protein.”

Eliot then stood up and pulled Quentin to a sitting position. Then he sat down in front of him and put the tray of food on his lap. He scooped some eggs onto the fork and put it to Quentin’s mouth.

Quentin crossed his arms and turned away. 

“Q, please. You have to eat something. What about a smoothie? Ice cream?”

Quentin scrunched his nose. “Nothing sounds good.”

Eliot sighed. “Well you are eating something off of this plate even if I have to force feed you. I’ll have some of the staff hold you down and I’ll shove it down your throat if I have to, and don’t think that I won’t.” 

Quentin’s eyes widened. He knew Eliot wasn’t kidding. He grabbed the bowl of fruit and popped a strawberry into his mouth. 

Eliot smiled. “That’s better. Wasn’t so hard was it? I’ve let you go 3 days now with you barely picking at any food. I’m gonna have to be a dick now. I want all of that fruit gone. You don’t have to eat the eggs I guess but I want to see one piece of toast gone too.” 

Quentin rolled his eyes and threw his back in annoyance. Eliot sat staring at him. 

“Um, are you gonna sit there and watch me eat?”

Eliot crossed his arms. “Yep.”


End file.
